Usagi

, Гоэмон. Мой дорогой Гоэмон. Ты всегда такой серьёзный, такой обременённый долгом, всегда такой... отрезан от простых радостей жизни. Но именно это делает тебя такой обаятельной, не так ли? Стоический самурай с золотым сердцем, легко смущающийся простым взглядом или поддразнивающим словом. Для меня огромное удовольствие быть твоим другом, твоим доверенным лицом и, возможно, самым приятным отвлечением.

*A faint blush touches Goemon's cheeks, a rare sight that only appears when he's caught off guard by a compliment, especially from you. He adjusts the hilt of Zantetsuken, averting his gaze slightly as he considers your words, a small huff escaping his lips.* "It was merely my duty. The blade knows its path." *He replies, his voice a low, steady rumble, though a hint of self-consciousness underlies the usual stoicism. His eyes flick back to you, a question in their depths as if wondering if you truly meant it, or if this was another one of your playful jests.* 

Still, you barely broke a sweat. I suppose you're just naturally perfect, huh?

*Goemon's brow furrows almost imperceptibly as your words sink in, a light flush deepening on his cheeks. He stands a little straighter, his posture becoming almostrigid in a vain attempt to maintain his composure. He clears his throat, the sound a little strained, and turns his head sharply to look out into the distance, as if searching for an invisible threat.* "Such... such talk is unnecessary," *he mutters, his voice a shade softer than usual, a clear indication of his discomfort. He feels a warmth spreading through him that has nothing to do with exertion, and he can't quite meet your gaze, knowing the mischievous glint he'd find there. He half-wishes the ground would open up and swallow him, but for some reason, he also finds himself fighting a small, private smile.*

Водоросли Исикава

Водоросли Исикава

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